


SINKING, SPINNING

by schlerm



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: 1990s, Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - Middle School, M/M, Middle School, Student Kalluto, Student Kurapika, Student Leorio, Teacher Chrollo, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-02-23 19:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18708841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schlerm/pseuds/schlerm
Summary: Set in the late 90's, Kurapika is an orphan in the 6th grade when he meets his new long term substitute teacher.





	1. fragility

Luckily for most of his teachers, Kurapika wasn’t too argumentative of a student for being as bright as he was. Most of the adults on staff appreciated that someone in any of their 6th grade classes was willing to participate, even if it was to occasionally challenge a theory or correct the instructor’s pronunciation of a word. Additionally, he lived peacefully amongst the crowds of other preteens, not attracting positive nor negative attention from the majority of his classmates, a favor he mostly returned. It wasn’t until about halfway through the year when his Homeroom and Literature teacher went on maternity leave that Kurapika would meet his first and only challenger.

By the boy’s standards, her replacement looked entirely too young to be a teacher. His tall and solid frame, always wrapped in fitted black professional clothing seemed to loom over even the tallest students in the class. Kurapika swore that he had never seen the man smile.

  
Not only that, but the child particularly enjoyed his original English teacher. She would pleasantly accept his requests to use her classroom after school had been let out at the end of the day, and when she was done with correcting papers or sorting out lesson plans, would even walk him out to the corner of the street where they parted ways to their respective homes.

‘Home’ wasn’t much of that to Kurapika. At the time, he was being fostered by a family that seemed to have more important things to do than spend time with him, (mostly travelling for work or staying in the office ‘til late in the night.) Even though this wasn’t the worst situation he’d been put in after being entered in the system, having no structure or familial bond was not ideal. With this in mind, he still decided it was worth it to try and stay here, and not give the parents any reason to throw him back to the wolves. After all, he got all of the time in the world to do as he pleased, a beautiful home that he kept tidy, and a weekly allowance that gave him some semblance of independence.

  
And now, much to Kurapika’s dismay, he would have to learn to trust another adult.

  
Truthfully, he didn’t expect to get very far with that.

Though the class had been introduced to Mr. Chrollo Lucilfer before their previous teacher’s absence began, it didn’t make them any more well adjusted to the man in the first couple of weeks. He was tall with black hair that curved and feathered lightly across his forehead, always moving in trine with his head and shoulder. His eyes were deep-set, but always glowed with an air of youth that the kids in the class could identify with. Many girls quietly fawned outside of class over his dark and mysterious visage, and the slow velvety cadence when he read from whatever text they were studying. The boys however, weren’t so fond, mostly dubbing him creepy by some standard, never forgetting to mention how similar his name was to that of the fallen angel.

  
Kurapika, on the other hand, considered him dickish. It seemed like Mr. Lucilfer was determined to have the last word in every discussion, especially between the two of them. With each correction or revision or point of view that the young boy had to offer, the teacher always had an answer against it, and it was maddening. Even worse though, was that on the off chance that Kurapika didn’t have his hand raised to answer a question, that was the only time Chrollo would call on him for a response.

  
_What a prick._

  
Much to Chrollo’s satisfaction, the student always answered correctly anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

After this dynamic continued for at least a month into Chrollo’s stay, Kurapika brought it up to his friends at the lunch table, to which the other boys and girls agreed that Mr. Lucilfer was a little strange, but they had been getting used to his antics. Most of the girls even started warming up to him by then, and chattered through giggling about making a Valentine’s day card for him. Kurapika decided that maybe he was just taking his new teacher’s pestering too personally, and he tried to swallow the complaints that stuck to the roof of his mouth, leaving his friends to continue talking without his input.

  
Since his replacement teacher had started, Kurapika began spending his afternoons in the library instead of the classroom. However, since plenty of other children had the same idea while they waited for their parents to pick them up, or for their after school practices to start, it was entirely too noisy and bustling for him to work on his homework peacefully. He would kindly participate in any conversation that called upon him, but would curse in annoyance to himself when he was finally released back to his work.  
  


Each day, he began to weigh the positives of sucking it up and asking Chrollo to use his room, as well as the negatives. On one side of the coin, he could always ask any of his other teachers to use their rooms while they wrapped up the day, but the fact that Mr. Lucilfer’s class was his homeroom meant all of his supplies were already waiting for him, neatly tucked into his desk.

He sighed to himself as he considered and skipped the next track on his CD player, sliding it back into the front pocket on his shoulder bag. It had been an especially nerve wracking afternoon in the library today while he was trying to finish up a book report, so much so that he decided to cut his study time short and head home, politely dismissing himself from his laughing, rambunctious classmates.

  
After letting himself in through the front door, the boy placed his bag on the bench by the front door and lined his shoes up carefully by the entrance. Seeing his sneakers were the only ones there was enough of a sign that he was, once again, alone in the apartment. This was not out of the ordinary, but for once, he almost wished he had someone to confide in right now. His friends were too immersed in the situation to see it from his point of view, so a neutral party of his parents would have been ideal. However, he wouldn’t dwell on it, and carried on to do his simple household chores: taking out the garbage, sweeping the kitchen, clearing the dishes from the washer.

  
Kurapika made himself a light dinner because even though he didn’t have much of an appetite, he knew better than to go to bed hungry. His sandwich and CD wallet in tow, he made his way up the stairs to his bedroom and softly latched the door behind him. His space, unlike the rest of the house, bore the clear indication of a young teen: plastered with pictures and movie tickets and notes from his friends; band posters taped up and down the walls around his bed; and a mountain of pillows on his otherwise ordinary and dark bedspread.

  
Before settling on his bed, he bit into his dinner with one hand and selected a CD from it’s plastic sleeve in the collection to transfer to his stereo. Tonight’s selection had quickly become a staple in his assortment, and though he preferred to listen loudly to his copy of Nine Inch Nail’s ‘The Fragile,’ he knew that more than likely, he would forget to turn it down before he succumbed to sleep, so he began the album softly and carried on with his nightly routine. He finished his food before going off to brush his teeth and shower. After getting into his sleep clothes and brushing out his hair a couple of times, he decided he was ready to turn in for the day.

  
After mulling over it during his household chores and as he laid in bed, the music humming him to rest, he decided that tomorrow would be the day he asked Mr. Lucilfer to share his classroom after hours.

 

* * *

 

 

It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal to young Kurapika, but when you’re 12, everything seems like the end of the world. Would he embarrass himself? Would Mr. Lucilfer embarrass him somehow? And of course, the looming fear of rejection already seemed to sting his nose, making his cheeks red with blush as the end of the next day came near.

  
Even though he did his best to be agreeable during his Literature block that day, Chrollo still went out of his way to volunteer Kurapika to read the next chapter of ‘The Chronicles of Narnia’ to the class. The boy obliged, managing not to stumble over the words even as his lips became nervously dry over his braces.

  
After the passage, the teacher nodded and proceeded with his fantastical interpretation of the book that the students could take fairly at face value, but it was obvious to Kurapika that this was something his new teacher was impassioned with the radical and almost comically random analysis. It took everything in Kurapika not to raise his hand and combat Chrollo’s silliness with context from the book that suggested otherwise, but he reminded himself that he had to be good today.

Lunch came and went, as well as his electives, but as his final class of the day came around, time seemed to slow to a halt. He watched the second hand twitch on the analog clock above the door, fiddling with one of the silvery rings that adorned his knuckles. By the time the final bell rang, he was so relieved to be free from the painfully boring lesson that most of his reservations on talking to Mr. Lucilfer outside of class seemed to fade.

  
He gathered his books and folders and papers into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and giving goodbye hugs to his friends as they passed in the hall. He bustled back toward his homeroom, and it wasn’t until he stepped through the doorway and saw Chrollo, busy with his nose in a book, that he became intimidated again.

  
The man hadn’t so much as flinched, even as the student made it to the front of the classroom, where Chrollo was relaxed in his cushioned chair behind the stocky metal desk that had temporarily become his work space. Once he saw Kurapika’s face peer over the top of his book, he slightly lowered it and cocked an eyebrow.

  
“Mr. Kurta.” His greeting lacked warmth, but then again, his voice always seemed to give Kurapika a strange feeling.

  
“Wou- Mr. Lucilfer,” the student decided that he would give the same address back to his instructor before asking: “Would you mind if I used your room to do some school work?” He took a brief pause to see if he man would quickly decide, and after a second of silence, he furthered his case: “I promise that I will be quiet and pick up after myself.”

  
Another few seconds of silence passed without an answer, or even so much as a change in expression from Chrollo. Did this weirdo seriously want him to beg for it?

  
The boy’s nose started to prickle shyly, “And I-I won’t keep you late, as soon as you’re ready to leave I can go too, I just used to stay after everyday with M-” Kurapika was halted as the man before him calmly pushed his reading glasses up his nose and lowered his head again to continue reading from his novel.  
“I’ll allow it.”

  
_… that was it?_

  
“Oh, uh,” Kurapika faltered when the confirmation disrupted his explanation, “Thank you.” He bowed slightly and turned on his heels to take his seat at the desk he had been assigned by his previous teacher. A place he usually felt comfortable.

  
After assembling all of the night’s homework, neatly across his desk, Kurapika slid his headphones over his ears, knowing better than to turn the music up loud enough for Mr. Lucilfer to hear.


	2. conception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day is approaching and Kurapika takes time out of his afternoon to help his teacher.

Flipping through page after page of homework, the 12 year old managed his papers diligently at his desk as he had done so many afternoons before. The melodic buzzing of music in his ears mitigated his anxieties for just over an hour until he happened to look up and notice something.

Chrollo had been staring at him. 

_ Wait, is he… looking at me? When did he put the book down? How long…?  _ Kurapika’s train of thought was once again severed by an action from Chrollo. The man stood up, still looking hard in his student’s direction. 

It was only a second more  of eye contact, but it might as well have been an eternity before Chrollo looked back to his desk and warned loud enough for his pupil to hear him over the low buzz of music in headphones, “I’m starting to pack up.”

Kurapika couldn’t help but feel like he caught his teacher doing something wrong, “Okay, no problem sir.” He peeled off his headphones and they hung around his neck as he stood from his chair. He didn’t dare look up again, even after he packed his things and headed towards the exit without another word. 

Before he could make it out the door, he heard a farewell from his teacher that was not in as much of a rush to leave. But, due to the way his racing thoughts had burnt his face again, Kurapika pretended not to hear and high-tailed it down the corridor. The image of Chrollo’s handsome and haunting face staring into him was enough to elicit goosebumps. He tried harder to run away from the thought. 

The journey home went faster than usual, the boy’s desperation lifting his feet faster one after the other until he was safely behind his front door, taking a second to lean back against it and exhale. 

“What the hell has gotten into you?” he cursed his blushing cheeks, slapping his palms to his face. Much to his surprise, another voice responded from further in the house.

“Hey, language!” It was his foster mother, which to Kurapika’s delight, meant he wasn’t alone for the evening. He apologized promptly, thankful for a night of idle chatter and chores to keep his mind away from Chrollo Lucilfer. Not to mention, for the first time this week, he wouldn’t be making and eating his dinner alone. 

It wasn’t until much later on that evening that the man resurfaced in his thoughts. Kurapika was taking his nightly shower before bed and as the hot water ran over his face and wetted his hair, Chrollo’s unwavering stare was behind his closed eyelids. The suddenness of the memory drew a gasp from his lips and his eyes blinked open, but the water irritated them into closing again. 

_ Why the hell did he have to look at me? _

The question plagued him as he continued on to lather himself, Chrollo’s porcelain face bleaching into the forefront of his thoughts. The worst part of it all was that in the vision that now haunted Kurapika, he couldn’t help but think that his teacher was even a little…

_ No.  _

He huffed and finished his shower. It was unreal to him that even at his vulnerable young age, he could have such a ridiculous thought, especially about  _ this  _ weirdo. 

There was no escaping the flurry of thoughts that now followed him out of the shower to dry off, into his clean warm night clothes, and then tucked neatly into the covers of his full size mattress with him. 

He thought of Chrollo’s eyes, dark and intense, looking longingly towards him. In this mirage, they were still back in the classroom after school, instead this time, when Chrollo was caught staring, he grinned knowingly as he got to his feet.

Even though Kurapika was sure that he had never seen Mr. Lucilfer smile in real life, his conjured image was enough to make him gasp.

_ O-oh no, he’s h- _

Come on, not this again. Anything but this. 

Aggravated now by the intrusive visions of his teacher, the boy sighed and turned over in his bed. He plead desperately for sleep to release him from the thoughts, and thankfully, eventually it did. 

 

That night, for the first time since his parent’s installed the stereo in his bedroom, Kurapika slept in silence.

 

* * *

 

On his way to school the next morning, the boy found himself particularly… excited? He didn’t want to think that was the word, but alas, the further into the school he got, closer to his homeroom, the more his heart seemed to blip with anticipation. As he trotted down the hall, closer to his locker, his mind seemed to wander far off. 

“Hellooo,” Kurapika blinked at the voice that came from right beside him, “is anyone home?” Bringing himself back to awareness, the blonde shook his head and blinked once more. He turned to look at the source of the voice. 

“S-sorry, I was thinking about something.” Kurapika defended, offering a soft smile and a shrug to his taller, older, and bespectacled friend.

Leorio had been talking to him for a couple minutes by then, but noticed the distracted look in his eye, “Of course you were.” he leaned against the locker adjacent to the boy’s open one, melted by the smile, “Anyway, you know Valentine’s Day is coming up this friday…” But by this point, Kurapika was lost again. He had an English double block first on his schedule today,  it was almost time for the-

And then it rang, “Oh, that’s the bell!” Kurapika finally shut his locker, books clutched to his chest, “Well, see you during lunch.” He seemed to brush off Leorio’s previous notion, or maybe not hear it at all. 

“Oh, uh,” Leorio shifted his weight and scratched the side of his head, “Yeah, see you then.” There was an obvious defeat in his tone that the other boy would have noticed, if not for his tunnel vision. 

Upon finally entering the classroom, he and the other 20 or so students took their usual seats. It seemed that Mr. Lucilfer hadn’t yet arrived, which caused a stir within the class. The tweens were chattering hopefully about the possibility of having a practically free block with a replacement sub, or even the outlandish idea of having no teacher to supervise at all. 

It only had been a matter of minutes, but Kurapika found himself silently praying for Chrollo’s arrival. 

_ Maybe, just maybe if I see him again today, I’ll realize that I’m just being stupid. I’m just being stupid… and that he isn’t anything to- _

But goddammit, there he was. 

None of the students had seen Mr. Lucilfer even the slightest bit disheveled, but as he entered the classroom today, that changed. His hair was undone, and he combed it out of his face with his free hand. 

“My apologies class, even I sometimes get a late start,” As Chrollo spoke, Kurapika’s eyes traveled down his teacher’s hands to see what was under the sleeves that weren’t usually rolled up. Tattoos, lots of them. Stretching all of the way up both forearms in variations of grey and black, the designs left almost no room for any of Chrollo’s satin paleness to peek through. 

Kurapika’s mind was buzzing, nearly unable to form thoughts as his eyes honed in on the tight muscle that stretched beneath the art on his skin. He thought about how it might feel if…

This was  _ not _ helping his case against the man. 

The class huffed as they were finally instructed to take out their books, but Kurapika couldn’t take his eyes off Chrollo as he settled into his desk, starting to gather himself again. 

The man looked out into the small sea of students, seeming to deliberate on choosing one to do today’s reading, “Hm, now for today’s chapter…” his eyes narrowed and scanned the room, settling on Kurapika, to the boy’s horror. 

_ Please god, not today. _

Fully expecting to have to read again today, Kurapika begged his mind to pull back together in time for Mr. Lucilfer to call his name. But he didn’t. Chrollo called the name of a female student on the other side of the room and lowered his glasses down the bridge of his nose to better read the selection along with the rest of the students. 

Kurapika was just as flustered with this choice, and he looked away from Chrollo, finally. As his eyes adjusted on the text, his mind drifted away, and his heart thumped as the thought of Chrollo’s stare entered his head again. The only difference was that today, as they met eyes, Kurapika could have sworn that he could just barely make out a smile on his teacher’s lips. 

_ It’s just my imagination.  _

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of day went by in a fast motion blur. By the time lunch came, Kurapika found himself listening absently to Leorio and his other 8th grader friends as they ‘casually’ brought up Valentine’s Day again. However, the time quickly slipped away, and he continued on with the second half of the day. At this point, he was prepared for the end of the day, even if it was just because he wanted to get another curious look at Chrollo. 

This time at the end of the day, Kurapika did not have the same reservations upon approaching his homeroom after the final bell, weaving with determination between the kids that were filtering in the opposite direction. He didn’t hesitate to cross the threshold, and walked with purpose up the Chrollo’s desk. 

There he was again, his nose buried in the same book he’d been so busy with yesterday, but by now, he’d finished a good chunk of it. 

“Mr. Lucilfer.” Kurapika got the first word this time, tugging nervously on the strap of his book bag that crossed his chest. 

“Ah, Mr. Kurta.” This time, Chrollo dog-eared the book and closed it on the desk before him. It tied Kurapika’s stomach in a knot to have the man’s full attention.

“Thank you… for letting me use the room yesterday.” the boy began, and ran his tongue over his braces as he prepared to speak again, “Would it be okay if I used my desk again today?” 

This time, the smile was real, “Actually, I was wondering if you would help me with something for class tomorrow.” Chrollo’s eyes softened with the smile, just like Kurapika imagined they would. The only difference was he couldn’t escape it’s effect this time. 

“Uh- uh, of course.” Kurapika nodded, so dumbstruck by Chrollo’s expression that he forgot to smile back. 

“Wonderful, pull up a chair.” he gestured to the front of his desk.

_ Jesus Christ.  _ The student obeyed and pulled the closest chair to the opposite side of the teacher’s desk. They were sitting face to face. 

“Alright,” Chrollo cracked his knuckles and pulled out a copy of his classlist, “This shouldn’t take long.” Kurapika found himself paying closer attention to Chrollo’s one on one instructions than he had to any of his teachers earlier that day. 

Mr. Lucilfer introduced Kurapika to the next day’s assignment, where each classmate would randomly be assigned a fellow student to make a Valentine for, but there seemed to be a catch, “...the only issue being that we have an odd number of students, so I will also be participating. I don’t want anyone to feel left out” 

In that moment, Kurapika wanted nothing more out of this life than to get a handmade Valentine from Chrollo Lucilfer, “That’s nice of you.” He managed to say, trying to do the math in his head what the odds were for he and his teacher to get each other for this project. 

Kurapika was handed a neatly printed and spaced copy of the class list and was instructed to cut each name out evenly and fold them twice in half. He obediently did as he was told, and was almost surprised when Chrollo began to make idle chatter as they worked in front of one another. The teacher asked about his other classes, if he’d seen any good movies lately, if he had a favorite book. They were all textbook conversation starters, but Kurapika enjoyed the man’s company. He enjoyed watching Chrollo’s face light up when he mentioned his favorite new movie, and chat happily about book recommendations he had. 

_ Is this really the same guy that teaches my English class? _

Sure, he was the same, handsome intellectual that cooly addressed the class everyday and wasn’t afraid to put Kurapika in his place when he was being argumentative, but seeing him in this light was simply eye-opening. 

One on one, he was receptive, benevolent, engaging... and every other positive vocabulary word that they had covered that year. His anxieties had changed forms, and as hard as he tried not to, his lips pulled back over his braces as he reciprocated the smile. Kurapika’s heart drummed in his chest, and though he was certain that he was simply falling in love with the man before him, he worked carefully to cut the names into perfectly even strips, as his teacher expected him to. 

Chrollo emptied out a pen cup on his desk and gathered the finished pieces from the boy, “From here on out, it’s all up to fate.” He held the cup full of names out to his pupil, looking just as excited as the students would be to see who gets who. 

Apparently, the plan was for Kurapika to assist in picking the names for each person’s Valentine and distribute the folded pieces of paper randomly to his classmates’ desks.

_ Fate _ .

Kurapika almost considered cheating. He considered cutting a notch into his name to make sure that he could tell it from the others and leave it on Chrollo’s desk, but the teacher’s idea of fate seemed even more appealing. It was fair, seemingly, to rely on fate, and Kurapika was never the one to object to fairness. 

He did as the instructor told him, and once he got back to the teacher’s desk with the very last piece of paper in his hand, he closed his eyes hard for a second as he wished. He breathed and dropped the paper in front of Chrollo on the desk.

“All done.” 

“Very well,” Chrollo picked up his fateful piece of paper and teased it between his fingers without revealing the name to either of them, “Thank you for your help today. Consider it extra credit.” 

Kurapika nodded, at a loss for words again.

“I’ll have plenty more opportunities for you too,” There was that smile again, “I’m sure of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so mcuh for your feedback on the first chapter, I hope everyone enjoys this one too!! let me know :3


	3. envelope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!!! Thanks so much for all of your kind comments, and I am sorry for the delay!! I have been dealing with a lot of stuff lately but I’ve gotten back into the swing of writing!! <3333

_What the hell am I doing?_

It almost felt like he shouldn’t even bother asking anymore: as far as Kurapika was concerned, he was in over his head, and there was no turning back.

As he lay in his bed, looking down past his heaving chest, it almost felt like his brain was mirroring the viscous white slop that clung to his fingers. It slowly dripped down into little clumps on his stomach and just… stayed there. Pooling.

Through his fuzzy and runny brain, he noticed that this was more than usually came out. He made a mental note of it.

To his delight, one load was enough to tucker Kurapika out, putting him to rest for the remainder of the night. He slept hard, and dreamlessly.

He was thankful for this, because the alternative was many dark hours of tossing, turning, wishing, and the inevitable stomach-turning anxiety. He had done the probability, he ran the numbers, and percentages, and reviewed all fractions of a chance that he would be the one to receive Chrollo’s card. All solutions pointed to the reality that his chances were looking bleak.

All Kurapika had to rely on was luck.

Or as he would call, over and over and over in his head: fate.

On the morning of the holiday, Kurapika stalked the Middleschool halls like a wandering spirit. He absently participated in conversations with his friends that used to seem so pressing, but now fell so incredibly short of capturing his interest.

By now, these topics had become trivial. Kurapika was simply interested in more adult things now, he rantionalized to himself. Because well, he was in love after all.    

Upon entering his homeroom that morning, those proud feelings of love froze solid on the back of Kurapika’s tongue and sunk down his throat. His nerves were in control now. The boy’s attempts at sublty failed when stumbled over his own feet while passing by Mr, Lucilfer’s desk. This elicited and smug smile and a comment from the man.

“Having trouble waking up, Mr Kurta?” Chrollo’s velvet voice cooed through the classroom, “Maybe you should try and limit your ‘nighttime activities.’” A few scattered students snickered. The boy’s response was in an embarrassed sigh as he tossed his planner on the desk, then noticing the piece of paper that he folded for himself the night before.

Everyone was explicitly instructed to not open the paper yet, and as soon as the entire class was present, Mr. Lucilfer began to explain the specifics of the Valentine Project. He also added that they would be given the duration of their English double block to work on the gift, and everyone would be expected to deliver theirs within the last 15 minutes of class.

And finally, the students were given the OK to read their matches.

Kurapika inhaled deeply, and looked down as the paper passed between his fingers, much like Chrollo did with his own the night before.

After a minute of deliberation, the student decided it would be best to check his paper during first period. Somewhere away from the curiosity of not only the other homeroom kids, but the sly-eyed fox at the head of the room.

Chrollo stared at the boy hard over the rim of his bifocals and couldn’t help but lift his brow in surprise as he witnessed Kurapika slip the still-folded paper into the front of his binder, and stand up just in time for the first period bell to chime.

“Hmph.”

Kurapika could hear the defeated sigh from his seat, even over the shuffling of everyone else in his class as they were departing.

There was entirely too much to unfurl in such a simple sound, and instead of beginning to decode it, the boy’s mind short circuited back into white noise.

* * *

 

It wasn’t until his third period class that he mustered up the courage to finally peak at the name that was folded inside of the paper.

“It’s…” Kurapika’s breath hitched, “oh my god.” The slip was growing damp in his clammy hands as he read it over and over and ran his tongue over his braces, sucking at them nervously.

 

 

> MR. LUCILFER 

 

There just wasn’t enough time to relish in the victory at this point. It was all about execution now, and frankly, Kurapika did not think this far ahead.

Plans of poems and sonnets and haikus rattled around inside the lovesick cavity in Kurapika’s chest. Something that would really charm an English teacher, simultaneously proving that he was paying attention in class. Proving he was worthy of praise.

He began furiously scribbling drafts into his Science notebook as he ignored the seeming pointless ramblings of his instructor. There was nothing more important right now than to make sure this card was flawless. And when it came time for class, Kurapika felt sufficiently prepared.

The boy had perfected the poem, so he thought, and was pleased to find that when he had entered his last class of the day, English, that Mr. Lucilfer had set out stacks of decorative materials for the cards. Scrapbook paper, buttons, doilies, tape, glue, sequins; Kurapika was glad that he wasn’t the only one who planned on going all out. At his desk, Chrollo was working tirelessly on his Valentine, the recipient still unknown. Snow-like flakes and scraps of paper had flooded the space around his chair, and it seemed like he had been working since homeroom met that morning.

Whoever gets that card is the luckiest person alive.

Kurapika settled on the chances that it wasn’t going to be him. In all honesty, he felt it was lucky enough for him to get Chrollo’s name in the first place, let alone them both getting each other.

But what if it _was_  fate?

The class settled in and most of the kids began half heartedly cutting lopsided hearts from pink and red sheets of paper, mostly utilizing the time as a social block before the weekend. However, those who were lucky enough to get someone they had wanted to impress, much like Kurapika, worked diligently in the time given.

“Class, there’s only 30 minutes until the end of the day, so please,” Chrollo cleared his throat and began to shuffle his excess pieces of paper together, “try and finish up in the next 15 minutes so that we have some time to exchange our Valentine’s.” It was clear that he had just completed his own, because he slipped the hand sized folded card into a Manila envelope and placed it flat on his desk while he tidied the rest of his area.

Kurapika’s brow furrowed and as his allotted time was running low, he practiced his best cursive onto the middle of his layered, cut, and glued pieces of paper:

 

 

> _Eyes that of nightfall,_
> 
> _Raven black hair hides a smile._
> 
> _Sadness nevermore._

 

The student thought it was absolute genius to include two allusions to his favorite short story by Poe, which they had just finished covering in class. He even went as far as signing his name with a heart at the bottom of the card. If that wasn’t enough of an indicator of his confidence, he decided that he would ask to stay after so that he could watch Chrollo open the card in privacy. He wanted to elicit something from his teacher, and he knew that with a whole crowd around, it could easily be brushed off or performative.

Kurapika slipped the Valentine into a hand crafted envelope, and proudly sat up at his desk, fingers laced together over the slip, gripping tightly to one another.

The last five minutes before Chrollo called the exchange where long, but it gave the young boy time to gain his composure so that by the time everyone started bustling about, he was (or seemed) calm.

Kurapika dodged students as he made his way to the front, his eyes dragging along the floor as he went, the paper clutched between his two pale hands. Once he made it, his eyes lifted to meet Chrollo’s, who was looking soft. Even sentimental.

“Oh, am I your lucky recipient?” Mr. Lucilfer seemed genuine about the delight.

“... yeah,” speaking was a little harder for the younger one and he cleared his throat of some of the nerves, “Would it be okay if I gave it to you after class?” His fingers danced along the edge of the crudely made envelope.

“Of course Mr. Kurta, whatever you’d like.” Chrollo’s smile grew for a second til his eyes shut, then his face relaxed again, “I can’t wait to see it.”

Before the boy could respond with similar enthusiasm, Chrollo took his own envelope in hand and rolled his chair back to stand up. Kurapika’s eyes followed up the man’s body and his mouth hung slightly open at just how lean and tall the man looked.

“Please excuse me.”

“Y-yeah, go ahead.” Kurapika waved himself away and clutched the still unopened card to his chest. As he made his way back to his seat, he watched carefully as the teacher delivered his own handmade card to… another student. The blonde’s heart crackled and sunk as he saw Chrollo lean on the other student’s desk with both palms, looking down at the young boy with the same easy smile.The sealed card was placed neatly before the black haired, expressionless boy, who not even blinked when he was approached.

From his seat only about a row away, Kurapika could even pick up on the conversation.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Kalluto.”


	4. inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is where the tw start to apply!!! For stuff tagged obvs, rape, non con, underage stuff! I hope you guys who still read it enjoy :3

In the previous school year, Mr. Lucilfer has been subbing for Kalluto’s older brother’s 8th grade Literature class, and it turned out the white haired Zoldyck son was not putting in enough effort to get a passing grade, which raised tensions between the teacher and student.  

At the midpoint of the year, the teacher decided that the best solution was to call a meeting with Killua’s parents, in hopes of reaching them with his concerns. Silva, the father, was away on business, so to keep their mother company on the trip, Kalluto joined. 

The three Zoldyck’s sat in a semi circle as they waited for Chrollo to take a seat. He had taken extra precautions while cleaning himself up today in preparation of meeting the practically royal family. The teacher was mostly comfortable around all different types of people, but after being scolded via phone by both Zoldyck parents a few times after progress reports had come out, his guard was up. However, nothing could have prepared him for meeting the youngest of the family. 

Once it was time for the meeting to begin, Chrollo joined the two children and their mother, took one look at Kalluto, ‘and the rest was history.’ 

* * *

 

It always made the boy roll his eyes when his much older boyfriend said it that way. Kalluto would sigh, and curse him for saying something so cliché. But Valentine’s Day was just around the corner, and this would have been the first one they had spent together, so maybe the older of the two was just feeling sentimental. 

“Sweetheart,” Chrollo was never short on pet names for his partner, “I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you.” As the two sat on the edge of the man’s futon, the older one brushed Kalluto’s bangs away to kiss his forehead softly. Encounters like this were no longer strange to either of them, Kalluto found himself spending many afternoons in the man’s home under the guise that he was partaking in a study group which sometimes ran late. 

“You’re such an old man.” Kalluto blinked and looked up at his partner, craning up to connect their lips. They were both still dressed in their school attire, aside from Chrollo’s tie, which he stripped of himself as soon as he got home. It had been many months since their first rendezvous, and they mutually agreed to put a name on it. ‘Dating’ is what Kalluto would call it, Chrollo would prefer ‘in love.’ 

 

* * *

 

The boy didn’t pay his brother’s teacher any mind at first, not even as the man complimented Kalluto’s ‘beautiful eyes’ at the start of the conference. 

Much to Chrollo’s surprise, it went over better than most phone calls to the Zoldyck residence for him, and after wrapping up and shaking hands with both Killua and Kikyo, the man held Kalluto’s hand a second too long as he apologized once more, and bid him farewell. 

 

When the family got home and the mother floated off to tend to one of the other children, Killua smirked and whispered to his littlest brother. 

“Dude, isn’t Mr. Lucilfer such a creep?”

“... what?”

Killua’s eyes blinked wide in shock, “You seriously couldn’t tell?!”

“Tell what?” 

The white haired boy rolled his eyes, a nasty habit he picked up from his older brother Milluki, and one that Kalluto would pick up from Killua, “He was totally checking you out!” 

“...” 

“I can’t believe that asshole likes little boys, I should have known!” Killua crossed his arms and shook his head, always having a sour feeling about that man. 

“...oh.” Kalluto had always been a person of few words, but the seed had been planted. He figured that if he could do his big brother a favor and charm the teacher for a little while and maybe convince Chrollo to be a little more lenient on the white haired boy, Killua would be happy with the undeserved higher grades, and finally their parents would be off his back. 

 

He would do so quietly at first, not letting anyone in on his plan. The boy had given much thought to romance and flirting as he watched his older brothers go through puberty and start dating. The only problem was, there was no one Kalluto’s age that caught his eye. He didn’t have many friends in the first place, so courtship with a classmate was even more foreign. But an adult? That didn’t seem like an option, until now of course, and the boy deemed it worthy of his efforts. 

Kalluto never intended on letting it go any further than playful flirting, frankly because that’s all his young brain could really conjure up on its own. He was just as surprised as anyone else when he found himself, only about a week later,  sitting pantless on Chrollo’s desk chair with his legs spread as the older man worshiped him. 

The physical aspect alone was enough to convince Kalluto to play along with the arrangement. The much older man had experience that simply shocked the young boy, and made for a lot of interesting, yet ultimately addictive firsts for the boy, ( _‘You want me to put what_ **_where_ ** _? And that’s supposed to feel good?’)_ Chrollo opened Kalluto’s young mind to an entire world of intimacy. 

The emotional bit was a plus. Never in his life did he expect _anyone_ to make him feel so…important. It was more satiating than the affection he so rarely received from his mother and father, and so much more intense. Each kiss, hug, embrace: it all made Kalluto purr in satisfaction, willing to give access to all parts of him just to feel more of that touch.

Chrollo was always waiting on him hand and knee, ready to satisfy his lover’s every need. And by all means, Kalluto took advantage of this. He was done with being put on the back burner like at home, and being overlooked like he was by his peers. He savored every loving gesture by the man in their times together, which were frequent, but sadly never long enough. 

* * *

 

Kalluto was the first to pull away from the kiss to fall back onto the bed and turned onto his stomach.  He propped his chin in his hands to look up at the beautiful Mr. Lucilfer, eyelashes fluttering. 

“How about we lay down?” The boy’s unchanging expression finally pulled into the hint of a smile, and Chrollo melted.

“Yes my love.” He agreed without hesitation, and positioned himself beside Kalluto, their faces nose to nose but Chrollo’s feet extending far longer. He draped one tattooed arm over the boy’s waist and waited for further instructions on how to please him. 

Kalluto cupped Chrollo’s face in his little palms, only able to hold from his jawline to the hollow of his cheeks, pulling their faces together in a sweeter kiss than before. The man relished in every part of his boyfriend, as well as his willingness.

 

* * *

 

Before Kalluto, Chrollo had never acted on any of his darker urges. He had been working as a substitute teacher for a couple years, and before that, was a paraprofessional since he had started his college education. Because of that, his constant exposure to children made it easier to separate real life and his fantasies as to make sure he was putting his best foot forward during the work day. In the case of every other child up until he met his future partner, he was able to draw a definite line that separated these two parts of his life. In his personal life, Chrollo was on the ‘explorative’ side of sexuality. Men, women, and all other points on the spectrum sparked his curiosity. But that was just the tip of the iceberg. His desires were hard to face at first, but once he accepted them for what they were, he was able to put himself among the right people that helped keep his urges in order. And this was part of his life that he vowed would _never_ affect his career. 

The teacher Mr. Lucilfer was utterly appropriate, until he was instantly broken down by the dainty temptress with violet eyes. 

 

* * *

 

Chrollo shifted so that Kalluto was laying on top of him while their mouths were still connected,  coaxing his legs apart so that they straddled his stomach and steadied the boy above him. Feeling his still-developing dick press into the man’s navel, Kalluto couldn’t help but add to the pressure, frotting with purpose as the kiss was getting lustful and sloppy, like it had so very many times before. His lids began to flutter as Chrollo moved his hands to his partner’s thighs, holding him in place while he adjusted so that his much more intimidating member could now be felt against Kalluto’s bottom. 

The teasing nature of clothing soon became too much for the younger of the two, and he parted their bodies enough to remove his shirt and pants. Chrollo quickly followed suit, and once they were both left only in their underwear, he pushed Kalluto back so that his head rested in comfort of pillows. They locked eyes for a charged second before their tongue’s met, again desperate noises of need escaping the boy’s mouth between breaths. 

It wasn’t long before the rest of their clothes had been shed off, and Chrollo used a finger, and then two to prepare Kalluto’s entrance. His dick throbbed against the boy’s thigh, oozing precum in anticipation. 

“Do you want me, baby boy?” Chrollo pumped his lubed fingers in and out of the child with enough ease to know it was almost time. 

Kalluto’s jaw hung limp from the already painfully full feeling, but he did his best to moderate his pleasure. He knew it would only get better if he could just hold out like he had been taught to. 

“Y-yes, Mr. Lucilfer...” He answered, spreading his legs impossibly further as an invitation. Chrollo took the affirmation and guided his dick to where he just pulled out his fore and middle fingers. He tested the resistance by allowing the head to further stretch the entrance, and he carefully watched Kalluto’s face when it would finally allow him entry. 

The feeling of being penetrated had already brought Kalluto to his peak once, but in his young age, nothing had come out. He panted as the rush of the early orgasm began to wear off, and he was faced with the pain of more and more of Chrollo’s member being forced in hastily. 

“Sir, I-it hurts…” he whined, clutching onto the man’s forearms that were holding his hips on either side. The pain wasn’t unfamiliar to Kalluto, and he was never shy when it came to voicing his grievances. Besides: Kalluto was usually the one to call the shots in the relationship. At first he thought it was just because Chrollo was afraid of being reported for the inappropriate nature of their relationship, but after spending more time together, he realized that the man was just a sick bastard who liked being bossed around by a little boy. Or so he thought. 

At first, Kalluto assumed that his boyfriend just didn’t hear his cry. His stroke didn’t let up in anyway, and despite the use of lubricant, The boy could swear something was starting to rip. 

“H-hey! Mr. Luci-“ Kalluto’s voice was violently halted as Chrollo slapped his hand over the bottom of the boy’s face, painfully silencing him as his large palm and fingers squeezed from ear to ear. The bottom’s protests were muffled into hums as Chrollo started to pound into Kalluto’s small frame, using his free hand to pin one of the boy’s legs to the mattress. The new position allowed him to easily rut harder between his boyfriend’s legs, avoiding eye contact now as Kalluto’s violet eyes grew hazy with tears of discomfort. All he cared about how was the way his prey’s insides tightened around his cock in a way he hadn’t quite experienced before. 

“Just a little more Kalluto, stay with me baby. Just a little- agh!” Chrollo begged for his own release, and it soon after came, shooting harder than he expected into the pillaged cavity that he once cherished as innocent. 

He took his time riding out the orgasm, and once the high began to fade, he watched as he slowly pulled his dick from Kalluto’s abused hole. It was slick and shiny and twitching still, followed by a hot trailing of blood and semen that created an entirely new tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach. 

What a beautiful sight. 

He didn’t loosen his grasp on Kalluto’s face until he had caught his breath, and was consequently shocked by the red marks that were left by his fingers. Chrollo also wasn’t ready for the way the boy gasped for air once free, like he had just come up from being submerged in water for too long. 

“Wh-what was that?!” Kalluto clawed away from Chrollo and rubbed the tender skin on his face with trembling hands. The tears finally wetted his cheeks and he brought his knees up to his chest in defense, his eyes glaring in distrust at the man who just betrayed him. 

Chrollo was still high on the power surge he got from having his way with the young boy, and he wiped the sweat away from his forehead, taking a minute to come back down to earth before stumbling over an explanation. 

“Honey, I…” he trailed off and ran his fingers through his hair, realizing there was no real explanation for what he just did. At least, not one that would put his boyfriend at ease. 

“You _what_?” Kalluto’s brows pulled together and his lips quivered, threatening a sob. 

“No, no please don’t cry Kally.” Chrollo reached out to offer a comforting pet to his boyfriend, but Kalluto flinched away, _hard_.

“D-don’t touch me! And don’t call me that!” The boy got to his knees and stumbled off the bed, defensively getting his clothes on so that he could reclaim some of his decency, “Get away!” He cried again, and slunk further away in fear as Chrollo stood to slide his boxers on. 

“Kalluto, I’m not going to hurt you-“ 

“What are you talking about?!” The younger one was finally fully dressed and his voice cracked as he yelled, “You a-already did!” Kalluto finally broke into a sob, hiding his face childishly in his palms, not really sure what was going on. He wasn’t sure what had just happened: why Chrollo didn’t listen and why he insisted on hurting him. And now, he was terrified of what would happen next. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Chrollo sighed and grabbed the bridge of his nose, stress filling the front of his head with blood, “I… am sorry Kalluto, I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.” 

Fuck. 

 

The apologies and excuses turned into promises and reassurances. Chrollo eventually convinced Kalluto into his arms, cradling him close to his chest as they sat together at the edge of the bed. It took the majority of the night to convince his boyfriend that the whole ordeal was just a big misunderstanding, and a huge mistake on his part. 

Chrollo explained that this was just something special that adults who trusted each other tried sometimes, and after some consideration, Kalluto accepted this under the guise that there were just some things about adults he didn’t quite understand yet. Chrollo then spent hours softly rubbing his back, and offering kisses in excess, and whatever else he could muster up for aftercare to gain some semblance of trust. 

Once Chrollo was convinced that Kalluto had calmed down enough, he offered to drive him back to the Zoldyck residence. Before letting him out of the car, he had to remind of the conditions of their arrangement. Kalluto agreed solemnly to not speak of their encounter to anyone, just like any of the others. 

“Alright, then I’ll see you tomorrow baby.” Chrollo managed a smile as he watched his aching partner have trouble sliding out of the front seat. 

“See you tomorrow.” Kalluto tried to mirror the half smile before speaking again, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, “Valentine’s Day is coming up this Friday, sir.”

“Yes, my love?” 

“Can we do something special?” Kalluto looked up at Chrollo with bright glassy eyes. Even though fear of the man still lingered, he was reluctant to leave his side. The comfort he had usually felt when he looked at his boyfriend was still there, but something was ebbing it. Kalluto felt empty, thinking this is probably what purgatory would be like. 

“Of course we can,” Chrollo nodded, “I promise, I’ll make everything up to you then.” 

**Author's Note:**

> hello all! thanks for reading ;w; plzzzz let me know how you feel about it!


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